


Here To Take My Medicine

by Throwthemflowers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cum Play, Daddy Kink, Fluff and Smut, Hipster Harry Styles, I'm done now promise, M/M, deceptive ice cubes, exasperated Louis Tomlinson, goop-reading Harry, oh my god i'm so sorry, there's a reason I'm posting this at 3 am, this would be pwp but it DOES have a plot it's just... the plot is more smut??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:23:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23509273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Throwthemflowers/pseuds/Throwthemflowers
Summary: Harry Styles reads Goop and everything good 'comes' from it.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 106





	Here To Take My Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Look, it's three a.m. and this is only getting posted because my usual inhibitions are stilted due to both the fact that I am tired-drunk and the fact that very bad decisions are easier in total darkness so with that being said THIS IS FOR GINA who loved the last stupidly ridiculous smut I posted that I almost deleted way back when, and is thus responsible for me being bold enough to burden the world with my rendition of Harry Styles taking his medicine. Bye maybe forever if I don't survive the embarrassment, all the love, Toni <3

Louis rolled his eyes and went for another sip of tea. Sadly it had gone cold. 

“That’s what it says, I’m not lying!” Harry protested, scooting closer and nudging his ipad screen atop Louis’ lap. “See? Right there.” 

“Babe.” This was not the first time they’d had this discussion, albeit never about this precise subject matter. “It’s the internet. You can’t believe everything you read.” 

“Look, see this man? He’s an _actual_ doctor and he wrote it.”

“Baaaabe,” Louis groaned, rubbing his temples, “There’s no way that’s true.” 

Harry glared at him with the surety of a man who had once pouted three weeks over his refusal to try ‘hair growth promoting’ avocados in their morning smoothies. Louis held his ground though, his stare unwavering even when Harry’s lower lip began to slip forwards and his whole jaw jutted out. 

“Harold,” Louis blinked at last, never able to win that part of the game, “You, a twenty-five year old man, are looking me directly in the face and saying you believe that sperm contains essential nutrients that will cure anxiety, increase brain function, and clear skin?” 

Harry nodded and motioned to the article once again. “It’s a _study_ Lou, an actual study! I mean, we’ve got nothing to lose!”

“We.” Louis felt his brows knitting together. 

“It wouldn’t be fair if only _I_ reaped the benefits of this.” 

“Reap away, babe. I want nothing to do with it.” 

“Er,” Harry scooted closer still and leaned in to kiss at Louis’ neck, “I mean you’ll have to have something to do with it, Lou. It’s not like I can, um, use my own, or something.” 

Louis let his head fall back against the couch with a soft thud. “Fucking hell, Harry.”

“It’s not so bad, see? Dr. Morgan recommends two tablespoons twice a day for—”

“NO.” 

“-—Thirty days for best results, and—”

“HAROLD.” 

“—It’s not like I don’t swallow anyways?” Harry finished, panting a little in exasperation, his eyes pleading.

Louis had never been very good at denying Harry what he asked for. The avocados were a special case. Harry let his lips quiver slightly before delivering his trump card.

“Of course if you _don’t_ want to help me try it, I guess I could just order from Dr. Morgan…” 

Louis’ nostrils flared. If Harry was going to imbibe semen it was going to be _his_ semen or none at all. “Fine.” Louis grabbed the ipad and switched it off. “But promise me _no more natural remedies_ ever again.” 

Harry, every inch of him clearly lying, gave Louis a huge grin as he said, “Promise.” 

*

“Lou?” 

Louis burrowed further into his pillows. He couldn’t feel warm sunlight on his skin so therefore he didn’t need to be awake. 

“Lou? Wakey wakey, baby.” 

Louis ignored the noise coming from Harry’s sound hole. Too loud. No reason to be awake. Harry got up early to _do things_ , not him. In fact, Harry made _appointments_ at unearthly hours of the morning. He did not. Therefore, he didn’t need to rouse from slumber. 

“Lou I _have to leave_ I’m gone _all day_ , I won’t be home until five, Lou _please_?”

Harry kissed his forehead, leaving a deliberate smack of slobber that irked Louis enough he swiped his arm up to remove it. 

“Goray Har… m’sleeping.” 

Instead Harry kissed him full on the mouth, slipping his tongue in as he shared his warm morning breath with Louis’ senses. It wasn’t fair, really, because of course Louis woke up then, he couldn’t very well stay asleep when kisses from his partner _still_ made his heart race after all these years. 

“Damnit, Harry,” Louis cursed, kissing him back.

After a minute or so Harry broke away, a triumphant grin on his face. “Lou? Um, I gotta take my medicine.” 

Five seconds passed before the pieces clicked and Louis narrowed his eyes at the curly-haired, naked, conniving, Goop-magazine-reading, hipsterized, shifty little shit that shared his bed.

“Harry I’m going to murder you.” 

“Yes, just can it wait for like, four minutes?” Harry was already peeling back the covers, his eyes sparkling as he found Louis predictably hard. 

“Is this seriously happening?” Louis protested weakly, because Harry had already fitted his lips around him and begun to suck. 

“Mmmm,” Harry nodded, gagged by his mouthful, his hands alternating between squeezing Louis’ base and kneading his sack. At least he’d gone for clinical and quick, all hands on deck, no teasing, business. 

But it still felt— _fuck_ —Louis gasped as his sleepy senses registered the jolt that darted up his spine. He chanced a look and instantly shuddered in overwhelm; Harry’s cheeks were sucked hollow and his eyes scrunched closed and a bright blush had stained his skin. Louis watched as his partner pulled off enough to suck at just his slit, tonguing down his foreskin, drooling over his tender tip until Louis’ stomach dropped, his chest locked up, his thighs clenched. Of course Harry knew these tells almost better than Louis himself, so he didn’t need to be warned. 

“Fuck,” Louis muttered, his tongue still sleep heavy, his whole body shaking. He felt Harry pop off just before his release, and for a moment he wondered _why_ , as the whole point was to _swallow_. He came hard, the busy previous few days no doubt a contributing factor; though they enjoyed sex as much—or, probably more—than the average couple, they went through periods of simply coming home exhausted and cuddling on the couch or in bed, never actually completing any frisky business. 

A cool edge touched Louis’ tender prick and he opened his bliss-closed eyes to look down. There sat his unbelievable, franky ridiculous, and utterly insane husband holding a small dessert bowl to his dripping cock. As Louis watched, Harry used one finger to scoop the remaining cum from his cockhead and deposit it inside said bowl. Satisfied with his collection, he kissed Louis’ belly before scooting back up the bed, his own dick bobbing hard against his hip. When he’d resumed his position beside Louis, Harry reached over to their bedside table and produced a measuring spoon, a _fancy one_ , heart-shaped and gold gilded and preposterously absurd. He proceeded to dip said spoon into the dessert bowl.

“Two tablespoons,” he muttered, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he measured precisely. “There’s one,” he carefully guided the spoon to his mouth and opened wide, consuming the liquid tongue first, “And now two…” He repeated the careful measurement, scraping the dregs of the little dish as he strove to level the spoon off, then closed his lips around this final serving. A satisfied smile followed, along with two deep dimples. 

“I cannot believe you.” 

“I can already feel it working,” Harry said as he smacked his lips, licking some residual white from his mustache area. “My anxiety about today is _way_ down.” 

“Uhhhhhhg,” Louis moaned, pulling the sheets over his head as he did. “Baby you’re ridiculous, I’m going back to sleep.” 

“Oh.” 

Louis was so very, very tempted to pretend he didn’t hear the little note of pity in Harry’s voice. His pillow felt so incredibly welcoming. 

“Well don’t just sit there, I can’t bloody well reach it from that angle.” 

Harry moved instantly, giggling softly as Louis took him in hand and twisted just the way he liked. 

*

“There’s scientifically NO MORE, Harry, I’m not fucking lying to you!” 

It had been three days, three days of coming in the morning and coming at night and it’s not like Louis _minded_ the attention but he had become convinced after this morning’s pitiful dribble fest (it had taken Harry two goes and copious bowl scraping to procure two spoonfuls) that his body had simply run out of sperm.

“We’re not teenagers anymore, you can’t expect me to just—”

“I’m not being creative enough is all, give me a sec.” Harry jumped off their bed and skipped to the closet, calling out as he went, “I didn’t consider that ‘clinical’ would be rather boring, you know? I’ll just spice things up a little.”

Louis sighed, resigning himself to his fate but still attempting one last-ditch argument. “I’m not a milk cow, Harold.” 

“OH!” 

“Oh, what? Harry what are you doing in there?” Louis could hear boxes hitting the floor. 

“Just one sec!” And Harry giggled. Louis braced himself. 

“Close your eyes, Lou,” Harry instructed, so Louis did, albeit with a half exasperated sigh.

“Ehem.” Taking this as his cue, Louis opened, not really surprised to see Harry arching over him in Lederhosen, or, rather, the kind of Lederhosen a stripper would wear in a West Hollywood nightclub. The tiny dress barely covered his junk and the latticework cut into his boobs, accentuating his puffy nipples and making his flesh turn a lovely pink. 

Louis felt his balls tighten. 

“Sir,” Harry whispered out in a high, tight voice, “Papa sent me to milk the cows, but they’ve all run off. I’m a terrible shepherdess.” He bit his lip and had the audacity to look coy. “I’m very good at milking though, sir, and I can prove it to you.” 

Of course Louis let his husband think it was his acting skills coupled with the ridiculous outfit that got him dripping down his thigh, but in reality it was the marvel of Harry himself, the weirdness of him, the shamelessness of him; a temptress with no gag reflex, no guilt complex, no filter, and Louis _got him_. Out of all the other men in the world, Harry had chosen him, had chosen to ridiculously beg to eat _his_ sperm morning and night. That thought more than any other brought him to climax. He spilled into the little bowl, his fingers digging into Harry’s sturdy arms, his knees clenched around a stupidly frilly skirt.

*

By day ten Louis had nearly lost his sanity, which probably had more to do with trying to guess Harry’s seduction choice of the day than the constant coming, but whatever the reason he felt nearly mad. He couldn’t reason out how Harry _still_ hadn’t lost interest nor tired of his little game, remaining untempered in his fervor. 

Mercifully, fate seemed to have his back. A trip to London was imminent for him, and he’d almost convinced Harry of the frankly rather brilliant deception he’d cooked up. 

“Right, so each cube is two tablespoons exactly, okay? Probably will taste a bit different after being frozen.” 

Harry watched him with wide eyes as he slid the ice cube tray into their freezer. 

“You’re sure it maintains its, you know, nutrients?”

“Positive.”

“Or I could just, like, come with you.” 

“You have to work.” Louis kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s only four days, baby. You and the frozen cum will survive without me.” 

Now of course there was no way, what with Harry sucking him dry morning and night, that Louis had stored up enough semen to freeze. He had, however, called in a few favors, namely from his least favorite place in the world: the local natural foods store. He’d dialed during a solitary walk down the street, just to be safe. 

“Hi, yes, I’m wondering if you have dandelion milk extract?” It was a long shot. 

“Yes, of course. Six, twelve, and twenty ounces.” But then, it _was_ LA.

“Right, good, um,” Louis mentally calculated his absence, “Can I have a twelve ounce bottle sent over, please?” 

And that was that. He’d picked up some baking thickener from the store and blended it with the white dandelion milk, and to his pleasant surprise it matched fairly well the consistency of cum. The only issue was taste. Four pinches of finely ground salt later, and he’d solved that problem. He would have felt guilty, but after reading the medicinal properties of the dandelion stuff, he reckoned this concoction would actually benefit Harry much more than, well. 

Everything would have gone according to plan, and disastrously so, if not for Louis’ burning need to distract himself from the guilt that kept pricking at his conscience. Of course the best distraction he could think of, and the only one awake at three a.m. Pacific time, was Niall. He facetimed the Irishman on his way to LAX. 

“You look remarkably well rested,” Niall commented moments after answering the phone. 

“Do I?” Louis’ guilt grew stronger. Perhaps… no. Impossible. “Harry’s on about this new thing, actually.” 

“Oh?” Niall asked with interest, having no idea he shouldn’t. 

“He…” Louis coughed into his hand, “He’s trying a sperm diet.”

Niall dropped his phone. “What?” When the screen refocused Niall looked as if he’d eaten a slug.

“Exactly. So I’m proper taken care of, but it’s been, how do I put it, a little _draining_.” 

Niall arched his eyebrows. “Well that sounds like him. Is it working?” 

“Come on, Nialler,” Louis gave him a withering look, “A diet of nut?” 

“I mean, I know, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t heard of that before somewhere. I feel like I read it in a magazine once.” 

“Goop, wasn’t it?”

“You know? Might have been!” 

Louis let the fact that Niall read such magazines go, as he wasn’t quite in a position to poke fun. “Yeah, well, I’ve found some temporary relief at least. Made a concoction out of dandelion milk and cornstarch for while I’m away.” 

Niall didn’t react, just continued to stare at Louis. 

“Mate, you froze up.”

“No, I didn’t.” Niall’s brown eyebrows arched impossibly higher. “ _Dandelion_ milk?” 

“It’ll be good for him, don’t worry.” 

Niall still didn’t move. “Lou. He’s allergic to weeds.” 

_”Shit,”_ Louis fumbled at the window divider and hung up on Niall unceremoniously.

It took the Uber driver nearly double the time to backtrack, and by the time Louis raced into the house the sun had nearly risen. He slammed the door, racing to their bedroom only to find his worst fear realized: Harry was gone. 

“Harry!” He yelled as he skidded down the hallway towards the kitchen. “Harry don’t take your medicine!” 

He thudded into his solid husband as he rounded the corner, the collision sending him backwards to the floor. Winded, Louis scrambled upright and held his hand out flat below Harry’s drawn lips. 

“Spit it out,” he demanded, seeing the way Harry’s jaw jutted out lower than usual. 

Confusion and stubbornness crossed Harry’s face at once, and he shook his head. 

“Harry. Spit out the bloody ice cube.” 

“Whoay,” Harry mouthed around the slowly melting medical catastrophe on his tongue. “An whoay aw ou ewe.” 

“Just…” Louis snorted in exasperation and lunged forward, locking their lips and catching Harry entirely off guard as he sucked the offensive frozen lump into his own mouth. He pulled away and dashed to spit the thing down the sink before his husband could react. 

“Lou what the _fuck_?” Harry stood slack jawed and gawking. 

“Kiss me,” Louis gasped, throwing himself on Harry before any more questions could surface. He’d licked every sour-tasting salty tang from Harry’s mouth by the time he broke away. 

“You okay, Lou?” 

“You were right, babe,” the lie came easily, “It’s not the same frozen. Wouldn’t do you any good. It has to be, er, fresh and warm.” 

“Does it,” Harry grinned devilishly and slid to his knees. “You mean you raced back from the airport just to make me take my medicine like a good girl?” 

“Yeah, exactly.” 

Harry undid his jeans and mouthed over the fabric of his pants. “I’m not allowed to skip my medicine, am I, daddy?” 

Louis groaned, stumbling backwards to lean against the wall. “No, baby girl, have to take it every day.” For some reason the thrill of his lie and the guilt of the narrowly avoided disaster caused Louis to chub up even faster than usual. The elastic of his pants was stretched away from his skin now, exposing him. 

“You need me to suck you, need me to give you some relief, don’t you daddy? So big, so thick for me.”

“God…” Louis thrust against his own pants’ fabric, desperate. “Yes, take your medicine, baby.” 

Harry didn’t need more prompting. Hurriedly he freed Louis’ cock and opened his mouth, his throat already wide. Tongue first he sucked Louis into him, whistling through his nose and moaning around his mouthful like nothing in the universe could ever be more sating. The deeper he drew Louis’ cock in, the more times he swallowed, but only when Louis felt the press of his husband’s tongue on the thick vein at his base did he truly realize just how thoroughly he’d been consumed. 

His knees were weak, his pulse racing. Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer, Louis scratched at Harry’s back in warning as instinct took over and he began to thrust. Harry looked up at him then, eyes red and streaming, nostrils flared, hair a sweaty, messy disaster, a magnificent, wild stallion of a boy, a—

Harry drew off at the last second, leaving Louis to shout curses as cool air assaulted him. After grabbing the dessert bowl from the end of the worktop, Harry slid back into place on his knees, his fingers quick to start up where his tongue had left off. With only two pressured pulls Louis began to come, his engorged slit too tender for how forcefully his load emptied. He groaned as Harry stroked him through it, quaking at the overwhelm of touch yet desperate for the relief of emptying everything from his swollen balls. 

Totally spent, he slipped down the wall and plopped to the floor and Harry followed, licking Louis’ cock clean before turning his attention to the bowl of shiny white liquid in his hands. 

“Such precious medicine,” Harry intoned with the air of a priestess preparing to consume a potion. He retrieved his gold measuring spoon and proceeded to slurp the fruits of his labor as Louis looked on, panting and still burning up with the heat of orgasm. 

“Baby,” Louis motioned him closer, “There’s some leftover.” 

Harry held the bowl out to him, a coating of white still layered along the bottom. “Want some of my medicine daddy?” 

“Yeah.” Louis ran his fingers along the curvature of the glass dish and sluiced out what he could before sliding his hand beneath his balls. With his own cum he slicked his hole; he was spent and loose enough to slide in two fingers without a shred of resistance. 

Harry watched him hungrily. “Daddy…?” 

“Take your pants off, baby, let me see how much you want me.” Louis collapsed completely to the floor, spreading his thighs as he pulled his knees to his chest and fit another finger inside himself. 

“Grew big and strong for you daddy, see?” Harry showed off his erection, solid and weighty as it jiggled with his every breath. 

“Baby girl…” Louis groaned, wedging his pinky finger inside too, wincing at the stretch, knowing that Harry was larger still. “Give daddy _your_ medicine now,” he begged, twisting his fingers free and exposing his shiny entrance. 

Harry mumbled nonsense as he pushed in, his head pillowed against Louis’ chest, his arms pushing up against the floor on either side, muscles bulging. So sensitive was Louis post climax that he could feel the snag of Harry’s foreskin against his rim and track the exact pace at which his husband filled him. It seemed like hours before finally, Harry’s soft thighs touched the back of his. 

“Daddy,” Harry whispered, perfectly still, “Am I safe inside you, daddy? Will you take care of me?” 

Louis rocked up and clenched his abs for answer, drawing Harry’s slit with practiced ease directly against his prostate. “Darling,” Louis whimpered, feeling his cock throb with another rush of blood, “Always safe in daddy, always, baby. Go ahead, love.” 

Harry began with long, slow thrusts, letting Louis guide the depth and direction. “Love how I can touch daddy in his most special place,” Harry gurgled, spit dribbling freely from the sides of his mouth. “Love how I can reach it by getting so big for daddy, so long.” 

“The best baby girl,” Louis praised, heat flushing up his chest and neck once more. “You can make yourself come for daddy now,” he offered, pulsing his hips faster in accordance with what Harry needed to do. 

“Da—ddy—” Harry began to thrust in earnest, his chest heaving with the exertion of plunging in and out. His tempo increased until at last he pummeled deepest and stayed there. 

Louis felt the pressure of spouting liquid against the bundle of nerves deep within him and cried out, coming again all over his stomach as if Harry’s cockhead had pressed a trigger. Lips were against his then, lips salty and tangy still with his cum. 

Harry pulled out slowly, his messy release getting everywhere, dripping down Louis’ inner thighs, pooling on the floor, clinging to his own pubic hair like milky beads of dew. 

“Do you like my medicine, Lou? Because I love yours.” Harry sank beside him and cuddled close. 

“It’s perfect, baby. Just what I need.” 

Harry hummed contentedly, a note of smugness in the way he nosed against Louis’ neck and planted little kisses there. 

A phone ring disrupted their blissful denouement, and before Louis could think to dissuade him, Harry had answered. 

“Niall! Yeah sorry,” he cleared his throat, “Just a little hoarse still, frisky times, you know.” Pause. “Yeah he’s here, actually, was supposed to leave this morning, though.” Pause. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?” 

Louis bit his lip and tried to shuffle backwards but Harry suddenly fixed him with a piercing glare. 

“Did he.” Pause. “Oh do you think so?” Pause. “Well thanks for checking in Niall, I too am also glad I’m alright. Yep, bye.” 

“Harry,” Louis wasted no time in his defense, “It’s pseudoscience, you _know_ that you _have to know that_ and the-—the dandelion stuff, it’s like magic shit I’m telling you, and I completely forgot your tongue swelled up when we had those weed salads in Ecuador I swear—”

Harry kissed him into silence. “Niall said you looked more well-rested than he’d ever seen you.” 

“And…” 

“And so that’s the only revenge I really need. It _did_ work.” Harry basked in triumph as he leaned down for another kiss.

“I thought it was supposed to increase brain function and cure anxiety or something.” 

“Was it?” Harry looked the picture of innocence. “Guess we’ll just have to keep going and find out.”


End file.
